2006 Pontiac G6 Gt Coupe 2-door 3.5l on 2040-cars

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Junkyard Gem: 2001 Pontiac Grand Prix GTP

For General Motors, the W platform just kept giving and giving and giving for decade after decade, serving as the basis of Buick Regals, Oldsmobile Intrigues, Chevrolet Monte Carlos, and many, many more models. The final and most powerful Pontiac W-Body, the sixth-generation Grand Prix GTP, rolled off assembly lines for the 1997 through 2003 model years. Here's one in a Northern California self-service wrecking yard. GM bolted the supercharged 3800 V6 into vast numbers of cars during this era, providing a deep reservoir of cheap blowers for unwise high-boost projects. 240 front-tire-charring horses, complete with a Roots-type blower scream from the Eaton supercharger under the hood. I see plenty of blown 3800s during my junkyard travels, from the Bonneville SSEi to the Oldsmobile LSS. Depressingly, GM stopped putting manual transmissions in the Grand Prix during the 1993 model year, so '01 GTP owners had to take the four-speed slushbox. This one came close to the magic 200,000-mile mark, but fell 25,000 short. The interior took a beating during its life, ending its time on the road with shredded upholstery and dirty panels. Seven-band graphic equalizers were all the rage during the 1980s, but GM kept the tradition alive into our current century. This content is hosted by a third party. To view it, please update your privacy preferences. Manage Settings. Grips the pavement like ... a shopping cart on wet linoleum? Featured Gallery Junked 2001 Pontiac Grand Prix GTP View 21 Photos Auto News Pontiac Automotive History

Junkyard Gem: 1992 Pontiac Sunbird convertible, with extremely rad W25 Appearance Package

Radwood has sparked a revival in the appreciation of goofy 1980s and 1980s automotive fashions, from neon-colored tape stripes to excessive TURBO badging to ads featuring horrifying Nagel-style women with radio faceplates instead of eyes. I see a lot of discarded cars that would have been ideal to bring to Radwood, and today's Junkyard Gem is even radder than, say, a purple Mercury Tracer Trio or a teal Chevy Beretta GT or even the elusive Dodge Daytona IROC R/T (yes, there were IROC Daytonas): a genuine Pontiac Sunbird SE convertible with the W25 Appearance Package and Bright White Star wheels. The W25 package got you a white Sunbird with kicky script badging, white wheels, and — if you opted for the optional 3.1-liter V6 — these candy-cane-influenced red-and-white displacement badges on the fenders. Now this is rad! The white interior got dirty fast, especially if the owner left the convertible top down, and these wheels were tough to keep clean for more than a few hours. This one appears to have spent many years sitting abandoned with the top down, judging by the completely trashed interior. The base engine for 1992 was the good old Cavalier four-banger, complete with 111 horsepower. This 3.1-liter engine made a respectable-for-1992 140 horses, for plenty of torque-steery, tire-squealy fun. As a J-Body car, the Sunbird was a sibling to the Chevrolet Cavalier in 1992 (the J-based Cadillac Cimarron, Oldsmobile Firenza, and Buick Skyhawk departed before the end of the 1980s). Starting in 1994, the Pontiac Sunfire replaced the Sunbird, continuing in production all the way through the demise of the J platform in 2005. This content is hosted by a third party. To view it, please update your privacy preferences. Manage Settings. Where (in Canada) would you test-drive your Sunbird? Related Video: This content is hosted by a third party. To view it, please update your privacy preferences. Manage Settings.

24 Hours of Le Mans live update part two

We tasked surfing journalist Rory Parker to watch this year's live stream of the 2016 24 Hours of Le Mans. What follows is an experiment to experience the world's greatest endurance race from the perspective of a motorsports novice. Parker lives in Hawaii and can hold his breath longer than he can go without swearing. For Part One, click here. Or you can skip ahead to Part Three here. I write about surfing for a living. If you can call it a living. Basically means I spend my days fucking around and my wife pays for everything. Because she's got a real job that pays well. Brings home the bacon. Very progressive arrangement. Super twenty first century. I run a surf website, beachgrit.com, with two other guys. It's a strange gig. More or less uncensored. Kind of popular. Very good at alienating advertisers. My behavior has cost us a few bucks. I'm terrible at self-censorship. Know there's a line out there, no idea where it lies. I still don't understand any of the technical side. Might as well be astrophysics or something. For contests I do long rambling write ups. They rarely make much sense. Mainly just talk about my life, whatever random thoughts pop into my head. "Can you do something similar for Le Mans?" "Sure, but I know absolutely fuck-all about racing." "That's okay. Just write what you want." "Will do. But you're gonna need to edit my stuff. Probably censor it heavily." So here I am. I spent the last week trying to learn all I can about the sport of endurance racing. But there's only so much you can jam in your head. And I still don't understand any of the technical side. Might as well be astrophysics or something. While I rambled things were happening. Tracy Krohn spun into the gravel on the Forza chicane. #89 is out of the race after an accident I missed. Pegasus racing hit the wall on the Porsche curves. Bashed up front end, in the garage getting fixed. Toyota and Porsche are swapping back and forth in the front three. Ford back in the lead in GTE Pro. #91 Porsche took a stone through the radiator, down two laps. Not good. The wife and I are one of those weird childless couples that spend way too much time caring for the needs of their pet. French bulldog, Mr Eugene Victor Debs. Great little guy. Spent the last four years training him to be obedient and friendly. Nice thing about dogs, when you're sick of dealing with them you can just lock 'em in another room for a few hours. You don't need to worry about paying for college.